


Bad Boy's Don't Get Afters...(But Batmans Get Alfred)

by RebelDrFerguson



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Added Artwork, Anal Sex, Brufred, M/M, Parent!Alfred, Referenced Daddy Kink, This got away from me I'm so sorry, Why?!!!!, bottom!bruce, minor suit kink, porn with a stupid plot, table manners, top!alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:18:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13487061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: After a date with Diana goes badly enough that she walks out in the restaurant, Alfred goes into full on parent mode to teach Bruce not only table manners but the tricks of the trade on how to date to get laid. Just lay back and let daddy show you how it’s done. (I've no idea where this was supposed to go but...YEAH)





	Bad Boy's Don't Get Afters...(But Batmans Get Alfred)

**Author's Note:**

> BIG THANKS to Waccawheels yet again for the inspiring Brufred artwork, you can all blame them for making me write this SIN! #I'mGoingToHell

“I didn’t mean it like that…” He whines but he’s already spent the last forty minutes doing so it’s not really making his argument any better. 

 

Alfred sighs from the driver seat for what must be the fiftieth time. “It doesn’t matter if you didn’t, that is what she heard and telling her not to get so touchy is really not going to make anything better, Master Wayne”

 

Yet again he’d dragged up Steve. Why did he always make situations so uncomfortable? 

 

“I could have sworn I’d told you as a boy how women detest talking about their past relationships, especially failed ones or DEAD ones!” 

 

Bruce huffed picking at the hem of his overcoat. Diana had driven them to the restaurant only to walk out and leave Bruce to finish his dessert alone. Dessert which he paid for but never ate, stepping out to call Alfred for a ride home instead. 

 

“We didn’t even get to the tiramisu” 

 

Alfred pulled up gently to a red light and changed gears. “Do I look like I care, Master Wayne?”

 

“No...you sound annoyed?” Bruce frowned not entirely sure why Alfred was so pissed off, it wasn’t that late to be driving and he hadn’t wanted the night off. 

 

“That would be correct, sir, seeing as it took a fortnight to get you to even talk to her” The sir was added very sarcastically leaving them in utter silence for the last ten minutes of the drive. 

 

“Alfred...I-” 

 

The Butler held his hand up as they climbed from the car and Alfred pressed the key fob. “It doesn’t matter, you’re home now, go to bed, I’ll try and get hold of Miss Prince for you in a day or so to see if she’s cooled off but until then, I want you up at nine sharp” 

 

Bruce pauses with his key in the door. “Wha-Why?”

 

“Because tomorrow I’m teaching you some goddamn table manners!” Alfred calls as he walks away into the night towards his caravan. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Bruce, as per usual, neglected this order and found himself being rudely awoken at ten past nine to the lights coming on and his name echoing off the walls. 

 

“Jesus, Alfred!” Bruce groans pulling the covers over his head only to have them pulled back. 

 

“Get up, come on, I couldn’t care less you have to keep your internal BAT clock in sync, you’re getting up and you’re going to bloody well re-learn your manners” Alfred growls and he turns opening drawers, pulling out socks and a vest before moving to the wardrobe for a shirt. 

 

Bruce groans again but somehow pulls himself up to sit on the bed and glares as his butler sets out his clothes. 

 

Once Alfred was done he turned for the bathroom stepping over a stray boot and muttering about a mess in the sink. 

 

“What have I told you about toothpaste stains, Master Wayne!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Bruce yanked on the clothes huffing as he went like some petulant teenager. 

 

“God, dad much…” he mutters failing for a moment to tug on a sock and almost sliding off the bed. 

 

Alfred reenters holding a towel and sighs at the sight of a half-dressed Bruce in only his shirt and socks. It takes Bruce a moment to wonder why Alfred won’t look at him directly until he looks down to find he has no boxers on and drags the covers over himself like Alfred hadn’t already seen it all. 

 

The butler definitely smirked then, before tossing the towel at the younger and making for the door. “I want you at the breakfast table in twenty minutes, for your lesson”

 

Bruce flinched as the door banged shut behind Alfred and padded for the ensuite. “He’s acting like I haven’t taken a woman out before…” 

Admittedly those had been drunken one night stands from business galas or hired broads out of the strip clubs but Alfred didn’t need to know that. 

 

Yes, this had been his first date with Diana after two months of dancing around calling her and having Alfred breath down his neck until he was literally handed the phone with her on the other end. He’d even made him prompt cards. Bloody mother fucking PROMPT CARDS. 

 

‘I WAS WONDERING ARE YOU BUSY ON FRIDAY?”

 

‘NO = WELL DO YOU PERHAPS FANCY DINNER? 

‘YES = OH WELL, ARE YOU FREE THIS WEEK AT ALL, I WAS THINKING WE COULD MEET FOR DINNER’

  
  


Helpful. For all of five minutes that the phone call lasted because no she hadn’t been busy and accepted in seconds before she got dragged away by someone at work while he spent brooding the next ten minutes by reading through the other fifteen conversational prompt cards Alfred had also written. 

  
  


‘I SHOULD REALLY GO SHOPPING SOON, MY SOCKS KEEP GETTING HOLES IN THEM’ 

 

When Bruce had read that, he threw the cards in the bin. 

 

Bruce still towed the line as he turned up to the table three minutes later than asked but Alfred merely gave him a disgruntled look. 

 

“Lesson one, cutlery”  Alfred gestured to the knives and forks he’d placed either side of Bruce’s pancakes. 

 

“Last night you decided to use a fish knife for buttering bread” 

 

“It’s a knife, and I didn’t even have the fish…” Bruce muttered, hands in his lap looking at the silverware slightly puzzled. Alfred had taught him this years ago before he started attending galas and fancy dinners but over the years he’d become bored with the looking fancy tropes. A knife was a knife. The big pair you used to eat...so?

 

“Look, this is the butter knife, this is the salad knife, this is the dinner knife and THIS is the fish knife” Alfred points to each one. “The butter knife is on the bread plate, this plate I repeat is for bread not rib bones!” 

 

Bruce shrugged, where else was he going to put the things. 

 

“This is the salad fork, this is the dinner fork and this is the soup spoon.” He gestures to the other side. “This-” he picks up the dessert spoon, “is for eating dessert not soup.” 

 

Oh, yeah, he guessed he’d got that wrong last night when Diana gave him a funny look. 

 

“What’s that for?” Bruce points at the smallest fork. 

 

“That’s a cake fork” Alfred added. “That you’d have learnt if you’d had made it past your main course” he tuts. 

 

“So what’s up with the cutlery lesson, wh-wait were you spying?”

 

Alfred smirked drying his hands on the tea towel hanging from his belt. “Of course not, merely just keeping an eye on the welfare of my employer’s love life is all” 

 

“Do I pay you for that?” Bruce genuinely sounded as if he was concerned. 

 

Setting down the younger’s coffee Alfred chuckled. “You couldn’t pay me enough, Master Wayne” 

 

Looking down to his pancakes Bruce pouts slightly confused. “So, er…”

 

Alfred sighs. “Out of what I just told you, what pieces are you going to use to eat your pancakes or do I need to draw you a diagram?”

 

Bruce’s hand hovers over the butter knife as he picks up the butter dish and Alfred hums approvingly. 

 

Butter on the pancakes Bruce goes to pick up the salad fork and earns a shake of the head. Deciding that this game was unfair he just picks up the two largest utensils; the dinner fork and the dinner knife, Alfred smiles. “Good boy” 

 

Alfred turns back to the stove to finishing cleaning up while Bruce sits for a moment and pouts. “Why teach me all that if I’m just going to use these?”

 

“Why, Master Wayne? Because if you at all plan to ask Miss Prince out again at any point in the near future...or should I say I call her, your going to have to be more a gentleman than you were last night” 

 

Deciding against an argument of parental portions Bruce starts pouring syrup on the hot butter pancakes wondering just what else Alfred had in store. 

 

* * *

 

 

As lunch rolled around Bruce was once again dragged from his office chair and sat at the table to stare with mild awe at the dishes in front of him. “Wow, this looks good” 

 

Pate, Caviar, Salad, Fresh Crab, Buttered Bread, Ham, Cheese, fresh coleslaw, pickles and well the list went on. 

 

“This is a lot for me though...are you not going to join me?” Bruce asks shyly when he spots the seat across from him is empty yet utensils are laid out. 

 

Alfred glances to the spot and then the table seemingly thinking before he smiles. “Well, why not, my cleaning can wait a little, anyway I can start with your next lesson”

 

Setting himself a plate down, Alfred reaches over for the wine and pours their glasses. “Lesson two, conversational manners” 

 

Bruce might have groaned out loud and slumped in his chair. 

 

“Sit up straight Master Wayne, this isn’t a brothel” Alfred jokes only a little unkindly. 

 

After a rather haphazard start with the claw crackers and a wildly impromptu lesson on why one should never ever over layer bread with toppings due to Bruce almost getting cream cheese up his nose and the correct place for P’s and Q’s. Alfred finally got to the main lesson. 

 

“Now, let’s get on with your actual lesson” Alfred smirks leaning back in his chair and crosses his legs picking up his wine and sipping it carefully. “If I were to ask you what you thought about the weather recently, how would you respond?”

 

“Shit?” It had rained a lot. 

 

Alfred snorts but shakes his head. “No, I would rather you didn’t say that it’s better to way lay the reply by adding more eloquent words, such as, the weather has been most unfortunately wet of late” 

 

Bruce snorted on his wine then and almost sprayed it down himself. “Alfred, I’m American, we can’t talk like that”

 

“You WILL if I have anything to say about it, but I agree it does sound unnatural, for your...kind” 

 

“If I start saying stuff like that she’ll accuse me of copying you,” Bruce laughs and Alfred chuckles. “True, very true, now, think about it Bruce, what would you say?”

 

Bruce pauses in spreading the caviar on the toast before answering. “It’s not been great this week, a lot of cloud and rain, not got a lot done?”

 

Alfred didn’t look impressed but shrugged, “Close enough, at least it’s better than shit” 

 

“Now, if I were to ask you your opinions on most recent fashion let’s say, what do you think of this recent skinny jeans trend?” 

 

“They look stupid?” Bruce offers smirking and Alfred rolls his eyes. 

 

“Try again...try to use a more acute wording, such as they look ridiculous on grown men”

 

“That I can agree with” Bruce snorts and Alfred nods.

“Good reply” He points setting his glass down and sitting forward to nab a bagel and spread it with soft cheese. “Now, if she were to ask you about art, say, someone obvious…Da Vinci, what have you to say about his work?”

 

Bruce set down his fork and sat back. “I-I don't know, I’ve only seen that one piece…the Mona Lisa” 

 

“That will do, surely you can spin something, you’ve done it for worse topics Bruce…” Alfred huffs scratching his chin. 

 

“Erm, I find his pieces to be somewhat graceful, many clearly have a...erm, deeper meaning and you can tell, he had real, passion for erm...the industry” 

 

Alfred pulls a face but accepts the answer. “Next time try something along the lines of he could see the beauty in delicate simplicity, you can admit to not having seen a lot of works and it’s likely she’d offer to take you to see some or whatever so you can give her some indication your at least interested in being cultured without saying it’s not your thing” 

 

Bruce mentally noted the line. 

 

“Okay...so last question, she hasn’t seen her mother in a while, gets back from a bad visit to her and someone at work has been trying to ask her out -not quite what you argued over last night but close enough, first of all how do you calm her side with her mother?”

 

“I told her that she should visit more often, mothers do worry like that” 

 

Alfred sighed. “No Bruce, you are correct in some aspects but you missed the topic, her mother hadn’t seen her in years due to the death of her aunt. If I recall, her mother was upset that Diana hadn’t returned after she had helped Steve from the island, what do you say?”

 

Bruce huffs and thinks. “Well, I guess her mother shouldn’t have flown off the handle about it, she did tell her she was leaving and it wasn’t as if Diana could look after herself?”

 

Alfred nods for him to continue. “But...perhaps Diana should have offered some better way of communication, because mothers do worry like that and it’s only normal she was going to fret about her only daughter?”

 

Alfred winces but again accepts the answer. “See, both sides, you appealed to Diana and then gave her reason to think...because she assumed she was in the right to be mad about her mother, in some cases she was and you telling her to: ‘get over it, parents can be like that and maybe she should visit more often’, was not helpful” 

 

Alfred sets down his half eaten bagel. “What about Steve then? You asked about him didn't you?”

 

Bruce nodded having the decency to look slightly guilty.

“Well, try it with me, ask about why I ended up here working for your father and not living with my wife and daughter?” Alfred smirked and Bruce froze. He’d always wanted to know what happened. 

 

“It’s...it’s not my place to ask”

 

Alfred actually laughed. “By jove he got it in one” 

 

“Last night when you brought up Steve and she asked what your problem with him was you should have shut up, honestly, you should have just pulled it back and made flat that it wasn’t your place to judge but you can’t help being curious, you were too forward, you literally demanded to know why she liked him, as if you could just be him Bruce” 

 

The younger huffed and set down his empty wine glass. “Yeah, well, lesson learnt, I don't talk about ex’s” 

 

“You’re lucky you didn't get punched”

 

They sat for a moment in silence before Bruce got an idea. “Can I ask you a question?” 

 

“Well, that is a question but yes you may” Alfred chuckles. 

 

“What car do you think I’m better off replacing, the Aston or the Lambo?” Bruce smiles. 

 

Alfred hums to himself. “Well, in all honesty, I would recommend you replace the aston, that radiator’s been playing up far too much lately, the cost of repairing it might just weigh out half the cost of a new one, though the lamborghini has become outdated I’m sure” 

 

No side. Just fact and opinion. Simple, easy and inoffensive. Bruce clucked his tongue. 

 

“Yeah...I thought so too”

 

Maybe he should had lessons from Alfred before that date. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Lesson three, shockingly enough involved him getting into a tuxedo and into said lamborghini to take Alfred to dinner the next night. 

 

Yes, Alfred. 

 

He had to admit when Alfred had walked out of that bedroom wearing his Royal Marine Major uniform, that he did look incredibly dashing in that navy and gold with his medals decorating his chest. Bruce actually found himself feeling underdressed as they pulled up to sleek and fine dining french inspired restaurant Alfred had booked. 

 

The fact Alfred had his cane unnerved him. The butler hadn’t complained his leg had been hurting although the second he exited the car and the valet noticed he was calling for aid because of the three steps. Barely anything, plus they were carpeted, but Bruce on auto took the hint that a seemingly disabled veteran would need help up and offered his arm without word as they approached them. 

 

The staff moved aside from the door giving the pair room as they entered and Bruce felt himself sweat as eyes started to turn in their direction. This place was high class and honestly, he’d never actually eaten this high class before, the most expensive place he’d eaten had been in Miami and that was only a two hundred dollar bill. 

 

This, was going to be more. 

 

Infact, as he pulled out Alfred’s chair and helped him sit before tucking his cane aside for him out of the waiter’s way and seating himself he spotted the à la carte specials on the wall.

 

Fifty Five Dollars for a 10oz Filet Mignon?! Wow. 

 

Alfred had asked about price that morning, Bruce as usual went with, ‘Money? Like you have to worry Alfred’ and laughed. Well, now he was getting served, at least Alfred was worth spending this much on for dinner. 

 

The menu consisted of five courses. Soup, Fish, Main, Dessert and Cheese. 

 

Bruce’s lessons. Oh, man. Was he sweating, it felt like he was sweating?

 

Alfred removed the glasses from his pocket with such grace as he sat back to browse the menu in his lap that Bruce could have sworn the man must have been here at least ten times before, but for these prices he doubted Alfred would come to eat alone, right?

 

Mustering as much decorum as Bruce Wayne should have, he set about reading the menu himself, trying to ignore the odd glance that was thrown to their table by guests seated only meters away. 

 

Alfred had booked and paid for a balcony table, one that over looked not only the lower half of the restaurant outside but put them in full view of everyone else inside as well. Nicely played,  Alfred. 

 

Best behavior then huh? 

 

When Bruce noticed a lot of the menu happened to be titled in french he found himself suddenly trying to plan a very witty and charming way to, well, charm Alfred. He knew just being able to sit through a dinner and not gather attention wasn’t the goal, his goal was to wine, dine and IMPRESS. 

 

Impress to a point where he should have been getting laid that night he went out with Diana and didn’t.

 

Alfred was the first to order. Mushroom and wild rice.

 

_ “Je prendrai le velouté aux morilles et du riz sauvage, s’il vous plait.”   _

 

Bruce hummed between the same or the clam chowder. 

 

_ “Et je prendrai le soupe de palourdes” _

 

Alfred hid his smirk by biting his lip as he browsed the wine menu. Bruce wasn’t any good with wine. 

 

_ “Pour boire nous prendrons le Kongsgaard Chardonnay”  _

 

Bruce glances down at his menu and his eyebrow raises. Sixty five dollars for the bottle, better be worth it he thinks before the waiter is already off to place the order. The food hadn’t been priced on the table menus so he had a feeling it was set with five courses. 

 

Now came the wait between wine and the soup. Alfred at first spent the time awaiting the wine to browse the rather extensive fish and mains list. Which Bruce copied in order to give himself something to do while trying to think up polite conversation. Listening to the people around him he heard talk of weddings, nope, relationship affairs, definite nope, shares, meh, cars, that was boring, someone’s sister in law was having a baby? Well, that was never going to be a topic for Bruce. 

 

Travel? He almost let the menu slip from his grasp as it struck him to talk about what he knew. Alfred had been to loads of places as a marine and so had Bruce in his early training. 

 

As the wine was poured and they awaited the soup, Bruce very carefully broke the invisible ice as it were with a question about Alfred’s medals. He’d seen them before alas he had no idea what they were for. Except for one of them, The Victoria Cross. 

 

Alfred somehow managed to time his explanation perfectly to the point where the waiter was just coming with their soup. Bruce managed to nudge the older into a conversation about his own cooking at home as they ate. So far he’d managed to blend straight in, the waiters weren’t eyeing him like the other night with Diana. 

 

The fish course was a touch more difficult. They both chose the lobster and Bruce found himself stalling watching Alfred before he attempted to tackle his own. It took some work to be sure he cracked the shell properly this time. Having survived that course as well, Bruce pulled out his show starter to discuss travel before the mains and asked Alfred in actual french where had he visited in France. 

 

They managed a decent back and forth conversation before Bruce forgot what he was going to say and had them chuckling as the waiter appeared. As Alfred dug into his spice crusted duck with truffle, Bruce started on his Coq au Vin. Things were going well aside from a stray shallot flying from his plate as he went to spear it on his fork and it splashing his jacket before landing in into his lap. Thankfully the move had been so small and hidden by Bruce’s arm when it shot from under his fork that no one but Alfred had noticed, spluttering on his wine and earning a glance from the nearest waiter as Bruce covered collecting the damn thing with his napkin  and dabbing at his jacket by pretending to wipe his fingers and then reaching for his wine glass. 

 

Dessert and the cheese board passed happily with both men now more comfortable with the fact most of the place had started to clear. Alfred’s eyes were shimmering in the low lights from the chandeliers and Bruce couldn’t keep his own eyes off him as the butler went on about growing up in London. 

 

He tried not to notice the casual flirting Alfred tossed in between talks about tailors, finding that the smile Alfred gave him when he replied ‘Speak for yourself, but it’s the man that makes the suit’ had his heart thrown into palpitations and he ended up nervously fumbling when he knocked the knife off his side plate. 

 

When it came to the bill, they did something Bruce would never expect, being Alfred’s employer he expected to pay, but as soon as the waiter placed the receipt and card machine on the table their hands collided on top of it and Bruce froze looking up to Alfred’s almost assertive gaze. 

 

“Let me Master Wayne, this was my idea after all” He offered gently as if one might do so to a business partner. It took Bruce a second to register the lesson Alfred was offering before he jumped in to act. 

 

“No, No, it’s fine Alfred, I owe you it for such a brilliant evening” 

 

“Master Wayne, I insist I can handle a few hundred dollars, it’s not an issue,” Alfred smirks as the waiter starts his way back. His argument was weak but it was unlikely any of the waiters knew the size of Bruce’s bank accounts. 

 

That’s more than a few, Alfred, he thinks before pulling out his Brucey Wayne winning smile and taking Alfred’s hand like he had Diana’s on the table before they’d ordered. 

 

“Please, allow me, it’s been too long since we’ve had a night like this and I would like there to be another, next time perhaps?”

 

Alfred’s eyebrows might have risen a little before pulling his hand back but he was smiling with a little pride as he let Bruce pay for the meal. 

 

As soon as the front door shut behind him and keys made that familiar rattle on the table surface as he shrugged off his coat Bruce was almost ready for the evening to be done. But when Alfred arrived in just his shirt and trousers carrying coffee into the bedroom before Bruce had even got his tie off completely, he smiled. 

 

“Should I make a reservation for two next week then?” Alfred asked with a smirk as they clicked the little cups standing by the end of the bed. 

 

“You can do yeah, it won’t be so hard the second time round,” Bruce chuckles sipping the coffee and setting it down to take off his watch. 

 

“That was a rather incredible menu,” Alfred added looking about the dark grey room that was still strewn with bits of clothing and random pieces from the cave. “I do hope you plan to clean in here…” he muttered.

 

Bruce smiled as he attacked his cufflinks. “Even better company if you ask me, should have warned me you were going all out, I’d have bust a nut in the shower before dinner just so I didn’t about having you over that table all night”

 

Alfred almost dropped his coffee turning to look at Bruce, flabbergasted by the sheer immodest declaration of attraction. 

 

“I do hope you didn’t plan on saying that to Miss Prince should you have got this far?” He asked taken aback, feeling himself blush. 

Bruce just shrugged. “I was hoping we’d be too drunk to care, but...she can handle a lot”

 

Alfred chuckled setting the coffee on the dresser by Bruce before reaching up to start opening the younger’s shirt buttons, finger deliberately brushing skin.

 

“I do think you’d have had some trouble with that, sir,” Alfred sighed softly as he tugged the shirt from the younger’s trousers not realising Bruce had finished on his cufflinks and blinked back to the room when the expensive silk slid away revealing the incredibly firm, scarred yet powerfully toned torso of Bruce Wayne. One of them gulped and it wasn’t him. 

 

Dragging his eyes up the softly tanned skin of his once young charge his lips twitched into a smile at the nervous and curious look in Bruce’s eyes. Letting his own eyes drop to the younger’s belt and then flickered back up, as he reached for it Alfred suddenly found himself pressed hard into the dresser, a hand on his jaw and Bruce’s lips muffling his ‘umpf’ of surprise. 

 

Breaking away breathless Alfred shoved Bruce backwards onto the bed laughing. “Final lesson, Master Wayne, you can wine-” The belt slid free from the loops. “You dine-” the zipper came down as Bruce started to fumble with Alfred’s shirt buttons. “And you can impress...but if you don’t end the evening with her screaming your name...you’ll not last long” 

 

Bruce grunted kicking off his trousers as Alfred’s hand dove into his underwear to squeeze at his hardening cock. “Uh, then care to show me how you do it daddy?” He taunts earning a firm tug.

 

 

 

“Oh I will my boy, I will, otherwise, what sort of father figure would I be if my boy couldn’t please a woman, hm?” Alfred teased back leaning down to scrape his teeth over Bruce’s pec, catching the nipple and making the younger buck. “FUCK ALFRED”

 

Alfred laughed at that. “My, my, I haven’t even started, are we that desperate Master Wayne?”

 

Bruce just whimpered bucking his hips up into Alfred’s hand eager for him to stroke, but the butler pulled away sliding from the bed to the dresser again. 

 

“Ah ah, proper preparation is key.” He clucks only earning a huff in response from the prone body on the bed laid amongst crumpled clothing. 

 

Returning to the bed with the hidden jar of lubricant Bruce swore Alfred hadn’t known about but clearly does, he nudges the younger’s legs open again and kneels between them warming the gel on his fingers. 

 

Holding the jar in one hand Alfred squints to read the label making Bruce flush right down his chest as the older drags out the moment on purpose. “Hm, at least you chose a brand that will wash out,” Alfred added after a minute before dropping the jar on the bed and taking hold of Bruce’s hard cock again. Bruce gasps at the rough wet contact and moans as Alfred starts deliciously quick stroking that has his orgasm building and boiling under his skin in just moments. 

 

“Al-Alfred!” He can feel his end nearing too fast and flusters like a school boy trying to warn him. Alfred lets go of Bruce’s cock making the younger bite his lip against the groan of annoyance. “Alfred please!”

 

Kissing his way down Bruce’s toned torso, letting his late night stubble scrape against the sensitive skin Alfred lowers his hand, sliding it between Bruce’s thighs, slick fingers pressing against the tight ring of muscle and making the younger jerk. 

 

“You want me to fuck you Master Wayne? You want me to show just how a real man does it?” Alfred taunts pressing one finger in and earning a throaty moan in response.

 

Bruce never saw his evening ending like this, never thought for a moment he'd be laid amongst his clothes on his own bed, sweating, naked as the day he was born, with Alfred between his legs. With Alfred on TOP. But as second and third finger joined in, as more lubricant was added, the quicker the older’s zipper was coming down and the faster Bruce was lifting his legs, Alfred shirt was half hanging off his shoulders as he thrust in with a heated grunt making Bruce cry out his name. 

 

There was nothing pretty, nothing slow or romantic about the pace, just hard, fast, desperate and needy, Alfred was left dripping with sweat as he watched his cock drive deep into the younger before pulling back to slam his hips forward again, Bruce’s body rocking on the bed with every move of his hips. 

 

Bruce reached for his cock eager to come as Alfred’s thrust faltered only to have his hand pulled away. “You can come when I do...count them…” Alfred pants pulling his hips back till the tip of his cock was barely inside the younger. 

 

Bruce fought for his breath but managed to count out with every thrust. “One”

 

Alfred slapped his thigh lifting his legs higher and leaning over him. “Start again, louder” 

 

“One!...Ah-TWO...THREE…” 

 

The butler was dragging it out now, slow and teasing before slamming back in, the sound of skin slapping echoed off the walls amongst the panting.  “FOUR”

 

“So close Bruce...fuucck” 

 

“F-FIVE, ALFRED PLEASE!”

 

Bruce grabbed his cock on the sixth stroke, head falling back on the seventh and came with a cry alongside Alfred on the eighth as the butler came inside him. 

 

Bruce whimpered into the butler’s ear as Alfred pressed a kiss to his broad shoulder. “Can’t wait to put that into practice,” he mumbles earning a heated chuckle and a kiss to his jaw. 

 

Alfred sits up, pulling out as he slides from the bed yanking his trousers up and smirking at the sight of his cum dribbling out of the younger's hole. 

 

“Well, let us hope I finally get my grandchildren then, huh?” The butler taunts with his usual snark before picking up Bruce’s clothes and exiting the room to put the washer on. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“Sorry Alfred, looks like you won’t be getting those grandkids.” Bruce smirks dropping into his chair in the cave as Alfred looks up from under the bonnet of the Batmobile. 

 

Alfred frowned. “She turned down the dinner date?”

 

“No, I just told her I had other interests now and we should stay friends.”

 

Alfred blinked standing straight, hand on his hips confused. “So who the hell are you taking to dinner tomorrow night...her mother?” He asks shocked that Bruce would waste a hundred dollar table booking. 

 

Bruce turns smugly in his chair and stretches out crossing his ankles in a seemingly playful mood. “No, I’ve decided after my lessons last week that women hold no interest anymore...I’ll be taking Clark”

 

The sound of the spanner dropping probably could have been heard all the way to Kansas itself. 

 

Alfred stood blinking for a moment before asking “Seriously?”

 

Bruce just guffawed and stood. “Course not, his engagement party to Lois is in two weeks, he sidled over to Alfred by the car. “I’m taking you like we planned”

 

Alfred’s eyebrows raised at that but dropped again as he processed the situation. 

 

“Sorry Alfie, you were too good to give up for even an Amazonian Goddess” 

 

The butler sighed bending to pick up the spanner and turned back to the car. “Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened” 

 

“What?” Bruce asked turning with shock at the words. 

 

“You don't need to know Master Wayne.” He smirks from under the bonnet as Bruce walks away. “Though that doesn’t mean I can’t be...persuaded to tell…” he mutters to himself with a smile. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Even at sixty eight, he’d still got it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Again...I'm so sorry. I need church. :(


End file.
